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Updated: June 16, 2025
During the daytime Hugh, anxious to get away to Brussels, but compelled to obey the order of the mysterious Passero, spent the time in smoking and reading books and newspapers with which Beppo's wife provided him, while at night he would take long walks through the silent city, with its gloomy old palaces, the courtyards of which echoed to his footsteps.
During the war he worked for the French Secret Service under the name of Monsieur Franqueville, and the French Government never suspected that they actually had in their employ the famous Passero for whom the Surete were looking everywhere." "You have no idea where he lives in London?" "I was once told that he had a big house somewhere in what you call the West End somewhere near Piccadilly.
Ah! m'sieur, he is a most wonderful man English, I think. "No, no, mademoiselle," Hugh protested, laughing. "But I mean it. Il Passero is a real gentleman but maquiller son truc, and he is marvellous. When he exercises his wonderful talent and forms a plan it is always flawless." "Everyone seems to hold him in high esteem. I have never met him," Hugh remarked.
I heard last week that the doctors have said that she will never recover her mental balance." "What! Is she demented?" "Yes. The report I had was that she recognized nobody, except at intervals she knows her Italian manservant and calls him by name. I was ordered to tell you this." "Ordered by Il Passero eh?" The man Vervoort nodded in the affirmative.
Ah! you will not know the expression. Well I am a thief in high society. I give indications where we can make a coup, and afterwards bruler le pegriot efface the trace of the affair." "And why are you here?" "Malheureusement! I was in Orleans and a friquet nearly captured me. So Il Passero sent me here for a while." "You help Il Passero eh?" "Yes. Very often.
"The Sparrow is our master a fine and marvellous mind which has no equal in Europe. If he had gone into politics he could have been the greatest statesman of the age. But he is Il Passero, the man who directs affairs of every kind, and the man at the helm of every great enterprise. Yet his one fixed motto is that life shall not be taken."
The queer visitors who lodged there for a day, a couple of days, or more; the guests who came suddenly, and who disappeared just as quickly, were one and all loud in their admiration of Il Passero, though Hugh could discover nobody who had actually seen the arch-thief in the flesh. On the Tuesday night Hugh had had a frugal and badly-cooked meal with three mysterious men who had arrived as Mrs.
"As Il Passero is clever, so is she." "Then she is actively associated with him eh?" "Yes. She is cognizant of all his movements, and of all his plans. While she moves in one sphere often in a lower sphere, like myself yet in society she moves in the higher sphere, and she 'indicates, just as I do." "So she is one of The Sparrow's associates?" Hugh said. "Yes," was the reply.
For myself, I simply move about Europe and make discoveries as to where little affairs can be negotiated. I tell Il Passero, and he then works out the plans. Dieu! But I had a narrow escape the other day in Orleans!" "Do tell me about Mademoiselle of Monte Carlo.
Her remark was of considerable interest, inasmuch as old Cataldi had seemed to be most devoted to his mistress, and entirely trusted by her. "Do you know the circumstances?" asked Hugh. "Yes. But it is not our habit to speak of another's well, shortcomings," was her reply. "Surely, Mademoiselle should have been told the truth! Does not Il Passero know?" he asked.
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